


World of Noise - Starscream

by Echovous



Series: Making It Work AU [4]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Blood and Violence, Bombing, Gen, Gore, Internal Conflict, Loss of Limbs, Minor Character Death, Terrorism, Vos City, brief mention of child murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echovous/pseuds/Echovous
Summary: Starscream sees a chance to save his trinemates from any further persecution. He makes a deal with Megatron, providing him with information.Nothing comes before trine. Not even the Winglord.Now he must see it through, despite his misgivings.
Relationships: Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker (Transformers)
Series: Making It Work AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561477
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	World of Noise - Starscream

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be included in High-Risk’s chapter 13, but it was getting a little too long and I figured it might ruin the flow. So I patched it up, extended it, and posted it as it’s own fic.
> 
> Please heed the tags, this is not for anyone who may get lightheaded easily. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Starscream transformed his wings flat against his fuselage, reducing drag as he re-entered Cybertron’s atmosphere.

_If you want your Winglord dead, I will see that it is done..._

Thundercracker and Skywarp were following close behind him, mirroring his movements. 

_However... If you can’t sway the flightframes of Vos to my side, you will suffer the same fate as your Winglord!_

Starscream continued to fall, letting the words of that brutish gladiator from the Pits float in his processor. _He’d just made a deal with the devil, only it had been completely willing._ In fact, _he’d_ been the one to offer it, but now he was starting to second guess. This was the _Winglord_ he was aiding in killing. Granted, the Winglord and his trine were the most close-minded mechs on Cybertron and actively fought against new scientific research, but still... 

He opened his vents, releasing a cloud of scalding air. _It was just his seeker coding affecting his processor... It was trying to make him see the Winglord only for his title, not to judge whether or not they’d earned it..._

When he neared the ground, he folded out of his altmode and landed on a small strip of elevated land between Vos and Iacon. Close enough to see Megatron drop the bombs on Vos, but far enough to be out of range. 

He stood there for a long while, his trine beside him, just staring at the flashes of blue light. He watched the high tower to the south of Vos — the tower he’d told Megatron the Winglord would be in— as it was lit up in flames. He watched bombs land elsewhere. Non-weapon manufacturing plants, public areas, and civilian towers. _So many would offline... So many innocents who had nothing to do with his resentment of the Winglord..._

— —

Nearly a joor went by before the bombs stopped dropping. He and his trine were sitting on the ground, tensely watching their whole lives burn away.

“Do you think Jetfire survived that?” Thundercracker was the first to break the silence.

 _Jetfire... His friend and fellow scientist..._ He’d been so angry when the flightframe betrayed them, threatening to inform the Winglord of what they were planning. At that time, he hadn’t cared if Jetfire was blown to the Pit, but now he was regretting letting him go. _Maybe he could’ve been convinced..._

Starscream shook his helm. “I find it highly unlikely.”

“Oh...” Skywarp was absently tracing his claws down the seams in Starscream’s side. He allowed it. Skywarp always got fidgety and needed stimulation when he was still for awhile. _And if if kept his processor off the bombing, even better._ “Well, I’m gonna miss him.”

Starscream closed his optics, taking a deep in-vent. “Nothing comes before trine, not even Jetfire.”

“You’re allowed to miss him, Starscream,” Thundercracker said.

“I do not miss him!” He snapped, causing both of his trinemates to flinch. “Jetfire defended the Winglord, the same mech who supports the extinguishing outlier sparks!” 

Skywarp and Thundercracker’s wings drooped. 

“I—” Starscream shook his helm. “I did this for the both of you! I would happily see all of Vos _vanish_ before I let them extinguish you both for something you can’t control!”

“Aww,” Skywarp pulsed happily through the trine bond. “I’m pretty sure you said the same thing our nuptial flight, but I accept nonetheless!”

Starscream growled. “I’m being serious!”

“We know,” Thundercracker grabbed his servo, squeezing it gently. “Now should we get going to Vos?” His blue trinemate’s optics flicked over his shoulder. 

He looked behind him, seeing the smoke rising from their city. He sighed, “Yes, let’s go.” 

They folded into their altmodes and took off for Vos. It was strange to fly into such a large city and see no one in the air. It was haunting, and he found himself searching for any signs of life in the massive piles of broken glass and rubble surrounding the high towers. He could see tiny shapes moving here and there, _dragging_ themselves. He could see there were parts missing on each of their frames.

His plating shuttered and he tried to forget the image of limbs ripping out of their sockets. “T-Thundercracker, Skywarp?” His voice was shaky when he began. “Go gather survivors. I’ll see to our leaders.” 

They both sent affirmative pulses through their trine bond before splitting off together, flying downtown. Starscream continued forwards, heading straight for the highest tower in Vos, _now shattered and scorched..._ He was careful as he approached. The royal trine were always heavily guarded, so he expected to run into trines stationed on the upper balconies, but as he approached, he saw no one. 

Starscream circled around the tower several times before he located an area that looked stable enough for him to land. Even then, the balcony creaked under his weight, hung up by a single support cable. 

He stepped inside, trying to orient himself in the ruined tower. _Where was he? About halfway up? The royal trine would be at the top..._ He began forward, carefully treading over the rubble that fell through the many holes in the ceiling above him.

He was already three floors up when he’d encountered his first survivor. Recognizing them by the pungent scent of energon.

“S-Starscream?! Starscream!”

He spun around, catching a glimpse of what looked like a grounder charging at him. His talons extended on instinct, preparing to defend himself, only to realize it wasn’t a grounder. It was a seeker. Their wings struts had been ripped out in the bombing...

Horror and disgust clutched at his spark. _This was his Primus-damned fault..._

“Please!” Starscream froze when his fellow seeker clutched at him. “Something terrible happened! The royal trine!”

“W-Where are they?” He asked, nearly retching at the sight and stench of the wounds.

The seeker’s face twisted in despair. “Top floor, p-please! Winglord Rapidraid and Lord Smokeglider are deactivated! Lord Downwash is fighting for his life! Please!”

“I’ll help them.”

“Alright... Alright...” The heavily damaged seeker nodded his helm, optics growing unfocused. Starscream watched in confusion as the mech slowly lowered themself to the floor, going limp. He reached down for them, only to stop when he noticed the quickly graying plating. 

_This mech had deactivated right in front of him..._

His spinal strut shivered, but he shook himself and continued. As he climbed, he ran into more seekers. It seemed they’d all gathered closer to the Winglord, or maybe they were trying to get as far away from the ground as possible. From what he could hear them howling and shrieking, some didn’t know bombs had been dropped. _Some were just in shock..._ Servants were pacing the halls, claws unsheathed and wings held high as if preparing to fight invisible adversaries. 

Nearing the top had him running into more heavily wounded mechs and more medics that frantically moved to attend the wounded. He spotted a mech who’d been sliced in half by a falling ceiling panel. The mech was shrieking in agony all while a medic with only one arm worked to weld his wounds. The sight made him sick, but he continued onwards, moving through a crowd of seekers who were all missing arms, legs, wings, and other plating.

“H-Hey, stop!” A servo grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. He spun around, finding a medic with a broken leg strut staring at him.

“H-How are you undamaged?” The medic asked, reaching to grab at his plating with his good arm.

“I—“ He stiffened as the medic examined him with an expression of disbelief. “I must have been flying high enough to avoid them...”

“That’s impossible! Seekers in the upper atmosphere were blown out of the sky...”

“I was very lucky then,” Starscream pulled himself out of the medic’s grip before directing his optics to the collapsed stairwell. “Where is our Winglord? Up there?”

“Yes. There are medics up there with him, but they will need all the help they can get,” the medic checked his subspace. “Oh, where did I put that extra med kit?”

“I have it.”

Starscream looked over to the voice, finding a purple and cyan femme, covered in energon from a nasty wound on her helm. 

“Give that over to Starscream, he’ll—“

“ _I_ can deliver it,” the femme snapped, standing from where she sat on the floor.

“Slipstream, you’re wounded. Sit back down,” the medic stumbled back over to the femme, but she was already leaving. “Starscream, please follow her,” the medic’s wings twitched anxiously.

He was already following the femme up the collapsed stairwell, climbing fast enough to surpass her if she’d just get out of his way!

“Not so fast,” she glared down at him. “The upper canopies have collapsed. You have to be _very_ careful up here... Wouldn’t want your pretty wings to get caught.”

 _How dare she?!_ “Yours either,” Starscream growled as he followed the femme through the rubble. “Though they’re far from pretty...”

Her own, energon-slick wings canted angrily. “So what? I was on duty in the tower hit with the blunt of the attack. What were you doing?”

His struts locked up momentarily. _He’d been giving Megatron the location of the Winglord... He’d suggested he drop bombs... He’d been the reason for this..._

As they climbed through the rubble, wails of utter agony reached them. They climbed faster, finding a pile of frames surrounded by several injured medics. 

Winglord Rapidraid and Lord Smokeglider’s charred forms were nearly unrecognizable. The only defining factor was the wailing seeker beneath them. _Lord Downwash._ His trine must have shielded him from most of the bombs, though it had obviously been a failed effort. Lord Downwash was missing half of his faceplate, his processor was exposed, and his wings were crushed from the rubble that fell on him.

_He looked much like a corpse flailing about as the medics attempted to restrain him..._

“No, no, no! NO!” Downwash cried out, pawing helplessly at his trinemates, spreading a thick layer of ash onto his own graying frame.

“Lord Downwash, please stay still,” one of the medics pleaded.

“NOOO!” He continued to wail.

Starscream almost felt bad for Downwash. The Lord had just watched the loves of his life die in front of him... Yet he couldn’t find sympathy for the seeker who’d supported a system that would’ve seen his own mates extinguished. _Outliers like Thundercracker and Skywarp were thrown off the roofs of Vos as sparklings... Officials didn’t reset an optic..._

“Downwash, you need to stop moving!”

“Please! You’re tearing your welds!”

“Keep still!”

Lord Downwash only wailed louder, blowing out his vocalizer. And even then, he still continued to silently sob until he went still.

“Check his spark,” a medic ordered. “Quickly!”

Another reached down, plugging into Lord Downwash’s medical port to manually open his chest plates. When they were pulled open, there was no sign of a spark inside. _The entire royal trine is gone..._

One by one, the medics fell to their knee struts. 

“We have no leaders...” One of them murmured, optics strangely distant. “How will Vos ever recover from this?”

— —

Starscream climbed down from the royal trine’s quarters and back to the gathering of seekers, Slipstream beside him. Thundercracker and Skywarp had returned, leading even more seekers onto the level. They all turned to him for answers, so he gave them one.

“Our leaders are dead.”

The sounds of heavy sobs filled the chamber. Seekers huddled together with their trinemates, though he noticed that some huddles contained only two... some only one...

“But we need to move on.” 

The seekers stifled their sobs, staring at him with wide optics. _They were desperate, aimless, but more important: maleable._ If he were to ever become Winglord and make Cybertron a safer place for his trinemates, now was the time.

“It was the Council who did this,” He projected his voice to the gathered seekers. “I watched from afar as they dropped the bombs—“

“Why would they do this to us?!”

“What have we done!”

Starscream didn’t answer. He let the seekers yell out in fear and anger, calling out their own assumptions to why the Council would be after them. He let the hate for the Council boil til it overflowed. It wasn’t long before these seekers were done grieving. Now they were set on revenge. Even the injured seekers unsheathed their claws, flaring their wings if they still had them.

“The High Council’s gonna pay!”

“ _Iacon_ will pay!”

“Frag, I’ll make all of Cybertron pay for what they’ve done to us!”

“Not so fast,” Starscream raised his voice again. “There is one mech that tried to save Vos from her destruction! Megatron, leader of the grounder revolution in Kaon!”

The seekers began to howl the brute’s designation. It was an interesting sound. You wouldn’t normally hear seekers chanting the designation of a grounder, _though it especially hurt with the knowledge that Megatron had been the one to ruin their home..._ Yet these seekers would never know, and they were too worked up to care. They wanted revenge no matter who led it, _though when the initial rage calmed down, they would still look to him for answers..._

He’d sealed his position as Vos’ Winglord... _Why didn’t it feel like that? Shouldn’t he feel more accomplished?_

 _Surely it would come later,_ he pushed the thought to the back of his processor. “Seekers! To the sky!”


End file.
